A Running Narrative

On November 1, Meb Keflezighi became the first American to win the New York City Marathon since Alberto Salazar in 1982, in the process running a hole through the paper-thin argument Cameron Stracher put forth in his October 31 New York Times Op-Ed piece, "Running Without a Narrative."[4] Mr. Stracher wrote that it was "unlikely" that an American would end the 27-year winless streak in New York, but pessimism is hardly the biggest flaw in his piece. The biggest problem is that his argument for why it was unlikely didn't make a shred of sense.

According to Mr. Stracher, "the real reason" American distance runners have lost their dominance in the past two decades is because of journalism. Or a lack of it. Or a lack of a certain kind of it. Without even mentioning the rise and recent dominance of runners from Kenya, Ethiopia, and Morocco (men born in those countries had won nine of the past 12 New York City Marathons before Meb's victory, and have set the past five world marathon records), Mr. Stracher claimed that American runners haven't been winning marathons simply because their races aren't being written about as frequently, or in as much depth, as in the 1970s and '80s when Salazar, Frank Shorter, and Bill Rodgers were winning laurel wreaths with regularity.

Sure, the Times published the piece under the banner of "opinion," but should that relieve it from being logical or demonstrably connected to reality? There simply isn't any causal link between athletes' performances and what is written about them, nor is there any evidence of such a link. The games (or races) are decided by the athletes themselves on the fields of play. It's one of the oldest clichés in the book. Did the New York Yankees miss the playoffs last year but win the World Series this year because beat reporters wrote more frequently or passionately about the Bombers' West Coast swings this past April? Of course not. More ink has been spilled about Tiger Woods and the intricacies of his swing (to say nothing of his misadventures behind the wheel) than about any golfer in history. Yet Tiger just went through a full year without winning a single Major. Are sportswriters to blame for that, too?

Mr. Stracher was right on some counts. Fewer small races get covered thoroughly in print today, and race "wrap-ups" aren't as long as they were during the first running boom. He was also correct that there is narrative gold in the nitty-gritty, hard-to-see aspects of athletic competition. I share and commend his belief in the power of storytelling. But he was wrong for sticking to the past tense when writing that "Runner's World used to write about races." Although it seems that Mr. Stracher hasn't noticed, the media business has undergone a sea change in recent years, and many race stories now appear online more frequently, and in more depth, than they ever could in print. Our coverage of the Boston, Chicago and New York City marathons on runnersworld.com this year (as well as last year's coverage of the Olympics and Olympic Trials) featured live blogging of races, dozens of video interviews with elite runners, and about as much information and immersion as any running aficionado could possibly want.

Mr. Stracher was also wrong when he piously suggested that Runner's World ignores elite racing and has abandoned narrative journalism in favor of "articles about how to tighten your abs and sculpt your behind." I have to wonder if he even bothered to read Runner's World before dismissing it as just another frivolous workout mag. ("Sculpt your behind"? No one who works here has the faintest idea what that refers to.) At a time when long-form narrative journalism is disappearing from most magazines and newspapers, Runner's World remains committed to telling great stories at the length they deserve, which often means 8-9,000 words. In the past six years, eight of those stories have been selected for The Best American Sports Writing anthology, including, most recently, "Running Scared," a first-person account of winning the Boston Marathon written by Amby Burfoot—exactly the kind of story Mr. Stracher claimed Runner's World doesn't publish anymore, written by someone he implied no longer writes for it. (Kenny Moore, Hal Higdon, and John L. Parker are still contributing, as well.) In keeping with today's publishing demands, Amby's story appeared in the magazine, then in the book, and now it can also be downloaded from iTunes so running fans can hear the author tell the story literally in his own words. That's not less "classic" running narrative, it's more. A lot more.

Just as important, the magazine is cultivating a new generation of writers who have produced in-depth, definitive profiles of current elites such as Paula Radcliffe, Ryan Hall, Deena Kastor, Kara Goucher, and yes, Meb Keflezighi, whose family emigrated from war-torn Eritrea when he was 12. It's a terrific story, the kind of narrative that goes beyond training regimens and race analysis. Perhaps you read it in Runner's World...in 2005.

I'm not saying RW doesn't seek out and publish what Mr. Stracher dismissively called "human interest stories." But that's not all we do—not even close. To reduce the magazine's record of ambitious narrative journalism to "blind dogs and septugenarians," as Mr. Stracher did, is absurd at best. I also wonder if he bothered to read Running Times before dismissing it with a slightly less uninformed wave of the hand. Because Running Times covers competitive running on all levels—including high school, college, and masters-level racing—in every single issue.

But back to New York. It wasn't just that Meb won the race. Six American men finished among the top 10, equaling the best American results ever. This flies in the face of Mr. Stracher's journalism-killed-running theory, but the fact is that American distance running is undergoing a renaissance that has its roots in higher levels of funding for development programs, a network of top-flight training camps, and the ambition and dedication of an expanding group of talented young runners who were inspired by watching Meb and Deena win Olympic Marathon medals in 2004. Runner's World, Running Times, and even The New York Times have been documenting and celebrating this resurgence for years. So maybe sportswriters shouldn't be fitted for black hats just yet.

Incidentally, on November 1 in New York there was also a near-photo-finish in the men's wheelchair race, and a guy named Brian Boyle, who was read his last rites after being hit by a dump truck five years ago, finished in 4:11. It was the third marathon he had run in four weeks. Without a trace of concern for sounding like a garden-variety "human interest story," Boyle credits running with helping him regain his motivation to challenge himself and live a full life.

Running hasn't "lost its narrative," as Mr. Stracher claimed. It's just that it's a far more inclusive sport than it was back in the day, so many of its most compelling characters now emerge from the back of the pack. Their lives and achievements are just as "complex and unfathomable" as a step-by-step reconstruction of a professional runner's PR. Don't get me wrong—it sure is great to see some terrific stories out front again. But come on, Mr. Stracher, look around.